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"I know." The dread sinks in but I nod firmly anyway. "I'll tell him tonight."
18
LUKE
“Areyou sure we can eat that?” Chase frowns doubtfully at the simmering pot.
“Of course,” I say. “It’s bean stew. My mother’s recipe.”
“Looks gross,” Chase says, wrinkling his nose.
“May look gross but it tastes amazing. Right, Mikey?”
Mikey, who’s at my other side, works hard on his 3D puzzle. But something tells me the lack of eye contact has less to do with hyper-focus and more to do with him not wanting to answer the question.
“Mom’s bean stew doesn’t look like that,” Chase says, heaving a heavy sigh. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just wait for her to come back?”
“No. Your mom has been working all day. It doesn’t make sense for her to come back and cook for us too.”
"Why not? She does it for me all the time."
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make things right. Besides, I told her that I’d take care of the two of you and that includes making sure you’re fed.” Although to be honest, I’ve never been the domestic type and Mikey eats far more takeout than he should. But staying with Mia has shown me the beauty and importance of a nice home-cooked meal, and I'm determined to follow in her footsteps.
Sure, I haven't made this stew in probably years now, and I'm not entirely sure that's how it's supposed to look. But it can't be that bad, can it?
As Chase continues to frown at the pot, I scoop a big spoonful.
"Let me give it a taste," I tell him and sip at the spoon. I can't quite hide my grimace at the taste.
Chase sees it and his hands go up defensively. “That’s it. I’m not eating that and you can’t make me.”
Mikey was also staring at it in disgust and shakes his head at me, backing away from the pot too. I sigh and throw in the towel, chalking this up as a failed experiment.
“Alright, let’s just call this one. How ‘bout we order Frank's burgers for tonight?”
“Yay," Chase says and even Mikey smiles his approval. I know Mia probably won't be a fan, but I'll explain to her that I have zero kitchen skills, much to my embarrassment. Ironically, I’ve always looked down on men, including my dad, who left all the house chores to their wives. It especially irked me, before their divorce, when I would see my mom exhausted at the end of the day, while dad was chilling on the couch with a beer. I'm determined not to be that type of guy. Maybe I can have her leave me a recipe next time.
Hey, The bean stew was kind of a wreck, so I’m getting the kids burgers for tonight. I promise it’ll be the last time.
It's fine. I’m stopping somewhere before I go home.
I frown. Where? I still don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone, and only did it today because the babysitter couldn’t make it at the last minute, and it was too late to find a replacement that Mikey would be comfortable with.
What? Where are you going?
Relax. I’m just going to see my parents. They’re at La Fuente’s down the street. Then I’ll come straight home. I promise.
Hmmm
It still makes me a little uncomfortable. Maybe I should get her a car so she doesn't have to walk or rely on Uber. I told her she could take any of mine but she absolutely refuses to drive one of my 'deathtraps'.
"I love walking,"she told me before."It's one of the few moments in the day I get to clear my head."
But I still don't think it's safe enough for her to be walking just yet.
"Can I have the double cheese?” Chase says, interrupting my thoughts. “Mikey wants the one with pickles."
Pickles are Mikey's favorite but that's not public knowledge.
